Journal

Notice: This is kind of a journal entry. It will probably be long, but I want to remember some things and this has kind of become my journal. Sometimes that means I don't really get to write about what I want or need to remember (or forget). Today I'm just going to write about my week. Sorry!

I think the McGregor family has been doing ok over the last 2 months, but somewhere around a week or two ago, I began to feel like things were falling apart. Or I was falling apart. Joe is incredibly stressed with his responsibilities right now, and I am also under a lot of pressure, and I was beginning to lose hope. My parents had been away for a few weeks at a camp in New Mexico--they didn't have phone reception or Internet there, so I really did feel all alone. They came through Cleveland on their way home last Thursday. My dad asked me just the right question, and I broke down sobbing for a few hours. They were so wonderful and just sat and listened and hugged me. They suggested I come up this week. They said they would watch the kids, I would get to finish my class, and have some good company at the same time. I was a little reluctant because my family is incredibly busy and sometimes I feel like I'm either in the way or even more alone because they live, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. I was only there for four days, but I think it was the best time I've had there, and I came away feeling renewed with hope and energy (although it is a little quiet tonight in the McGregor home).

Monday, my family watched the kids ALL day--seriously, from about 9:00 A.M. until they went to bed around 8:00 p.m. I finished my last assignment around 11:00 that night. YAY! That means I can renew my teaching certificate!!! 

Tuesday morning I needed another hour or so to wrap everything up and send for my final exam. My mom suggested going to see Harry Potter--the rest of my family watched the kids while Mom and I went to the theatre. It was a great 2 1/2 hours, plus an hour of driving. That evening, my sister asked me if I wanted to help her pick out some running shoes. My parents bathed the kids and put them in bed. After we picked out her shoes, we went to pick up my brother from his first date! They weren't done watching their movie, so we crashed the party and I had fun acting like a crazy teenager during that hour. 

Wednesday we went to the park with my grandmother--the kids' great-grandmother. She is 72 years old and has dementia. My parents brought her and her HUGE dog Zeke home with them after their trip. She is living with them the rest of the summer, I think. Anyway, the kids love her. She rode on the merry-go-round with them, swung with them, and ran all over the playground with them. She is so fun! Rene put the kids down for their naps while I helped my dad put wood boards and rubber chips around the play toys for the kids. It looks so great, don't you think? That night we took another walk in the woods and explored the girls' camp (my parents have a lot of land and host the stake's girls' camp every year). After the kids went to bed we popped up some popcorn, made brownies, and had GAME NIGHT! We played about 20 games of Spoons (I won about 16 of those games) and several games of Rack-o. 

Thursday--time to go home. Logan made a great Wall-E, and my brother, Brent, let the kids play with his fancy art-kit. We had planned a picnic lunch at Mom's school (she's an elementary principal), but it started pouring! We went to a McDonald's with a playland instead. Even Grant went down the huge slide (Logan helped him up all the big stairs). 

Now we're home. A few minutes after I started putting things away, I looked out the kitchen window and saw some red flowers growing the in the garden box. (I should explain, it was a garden box last year, and it goes across almost the whole backyard. The side of the yard that is not fenced is landscaped, but you could not tell because both the garden box and the side were so overgrown with weeds.) Anyway, I looked out the window and saw red flowers. My first thought was, "I don't remember those flowers growing there last year." Then I had one of those double-check moments. ALL the weeds were gone! I went in the backyard--someone had cleared all the weeds from the side and the back and planted beautiful flowers for us. I know it took a lot of work (it was BAD--every week I have thought about using one morning to clean it up, but I kept chickening out). If you read my blog (and you got this far), THANKYOU! It was the perfect ending to my week and best beginning to my week back in Cleveland. 

Tough Times? Depends on Who You Ask.

Why is there adversity?

We’ve heard myriad answers in church. Is adversity a tool of the Lord to make us stronger?

I don’t think so.

Gaining strength is a byproduct of adversity. You don’t have adversity because you need to get stronger. You get stronger because you have adversity. (Hopefully)

If adversity is to have any “purpose” in the grand scheme, it is to keep us mindful of what God gave us. Whenever we let our guard down and pity our situation or station in life, we should think about the problems we don’t have.

Proverbially, stress from adversity is like air pressure; it takes the shape of the role we cast it.

For instance, once upon a time Jenny complained that she didn’t see me enough in the day. Sure, twelve-hour days are hard on a mother of three. But now she would give anything to have those days back! She spends twenty-four hours a day without a husband while other wives are tortured with the loneliness of an eight-hour day. And although Jennifer’s husband is absent, at least she has one.

As students we heard the frequent murmuring against being poor. But student life is temporary. Jenny and I saw in China people that will live a lifetime of poverty, despite working their hands to the bone.

I complained about Cleveland’s bitter winter. But I moved. What about those who cannot move from the Sub-Saharan sun, or the parched earth underneath their bare feet?

What about those that will never enjoy the char of a burnt steak; those that will never enjoy the pleasure of a “bad” restaurant with “poor” service; those that, once you’re done with your “old” clothes, proudly wear your out-of-season fashions?

And as unqualified as I am to mention it, what about focusing on the pains of child birth while Mother Nature has left others unable to conceive? What about those that complain about their cough, but can afford medicine, and who are ailed with a germ that knows medicinal defeat? Dare I incriminate myself: What about the father that gets frustrated when his kids grind him with questions; kids with eyes to observe the world, with lips to inquire about it, and ears to hear a response? (And kids with healthy legs that enable them to sprint away when I tell them to ask their mother.)

Adversity inspires selfishness. It ties our shoelaces together; so even if we notice our neighbor’s trials (unlikely, since our eyes are focused downwards) we can’t respond with agility.

Whatever my adversity is, someone has it worse. And, lest that person become prideful, someone has it even worse off than him. And so it goes, until we find that person bedridden at the end of the adversity continuum, probably humble. And probably grateful for what he does have here on this Earth. After all, he has life. And life is one of the only two gifts humans are bestowed with that they were granted whether they wanted it or not. The other: how we choose to view it.

So next time you struggle with adversity, think of someone with more. Not to pity them, but to thank them for teaching you to be grateful for your small problem, however the size.

How the Jenn Was Won

This day, eight years ago, Jennifer was kidnapped from a sorority house by masked gunmen as she entertained advances from a roomful of suitors. The bandits bound her hands behind her back, squeezed a blindfold around her eyes, and rolled her into the back of a rusty van with a desert scene painted on the side.

As the eastern sky glowed with the sun's imminent appearance, the van kicked up a 30-foot high rooster tail as it careened through the Idaho desert. Finally, after 3 long and bruising hours, the van stopped.

No sound.

Suddenly, the back of the van vaulted open. She was pulled out and ushered, surprisingly gently, down an unseen path. Her captors haulted. They sliced away her bindings and untied her blindfold. There she was, atop a remote sophomore-sized peak in the middle of Idaho. And there, standing in front of her, was Joe McGregor.

The scene was breathtaking. The man was not. She knew this guy. That same Joe McGregor that loafed through Chinese class. That draped Texas flags on his apartment walls. That made fun of grown men that danced to N'SYNC. That Joe McGregor . . . that had no promise in life.

Standing next to Joe was a bearded man dressed in a suit obviously made for someone in junior high. He held a bible in one hand and a license issued from the State of Idaho granting him authority to bring together lovebirds into the holy bonds of matrimony in the other.

"What are you doing?" Jennifer asked Joe, as if the scene needed an explanation.

"We're getting married," Joe responded with the deepest warmth.

"But you never asked me to marry you."

"Will you marry me?"

"No! You've never even asked me on a date."

"This is kind of a date." Joe was slightly confused--and nervous; after all, he knew girls got cold feet when it came to marriage--but he maintained his toothy smile (there was, after all, a photographer on hand).

"Joe . . . I'm not going to marry you."

"Why not?"

The crowd (of 5) was getting nervous. Drama at any wedding is expected, but this was tying knots in everyone's stomach.

"Well, why would I?"

Joe had no response. He had thought the same thing himself.

"I'm leaving!" She stormed back to the van.

"Oh, Jennifer," Joe called out with a voice accepting of the devastation that was now his heart, "There aren't enough seat belts for you to ride back with us."

"What?!"

"Yeah, there's me, the priest, my roommates, the photographer, and the caterer. Sorry," a word Joe would come to use with frequent regularity, "I guess I didn't plan very well."

"You thought a hot dog stand guy should cater your wedding???"

"Jenny, I think that's besides the point right now. Listen, I'd love to give you a ride back, but that's only possible if you sat on my lap, where I could keep you safe. Now, that would be an entirely inappropriate arrangement for a man and a woman not married."

Jenny saw the writing on the wall.

As the sun peaked over the horizon, the two joined hands in holy matrimony. (The "kiss the bride" part didn't go over so well with Jenny, however.)

AND THEY LIVED ALMOST HAPPILY EVER AFTER

THE END

Happy Anniversary, Jenny!!! It's been a wonderful 8 years (probably more for me, I guess). You're amazing, and you're an excellent mother. I knew you would be.

And you're highly agreeable.

I love you.

Do You Ever...

Tell your kids that if they finish their dinner in 10 minutes they can watch a movie?

Logan came to me 5 minutes later and asked if he could help Madison finish her food.

When I said, "That's nice, but she really needs to eat something," he went into her and said,

"Sorry. Mom says I can't help you. But I'll feed you."

They watched WallE.

Life in a nutshell... or longer...

Joe surprised us and showed up last Wednesday. He had arranged with some friends to watch the kids while I studied at the library (still trying to finish up my last 3 credits before Sept. 1). I had been at the library just long enough to gather about 30 nonfiction books to look through when I got a text asking me if I was studying at the library. A few minutes later some guy wrapped his arms around me.

It was JOE! (isn't he sweet?)

We had a great fourth of July weekend and now he's back in Texas, getting ready for the Texas Bar at the end of the month. We're home alone. But this time we know we'll see him in about 3 weeks, and that's nothing! Which is so great and also so so scary.

We still have to sell the house. We've lowered it about $10,000 from our original asking price. That's about $15,000 less than we bought it for 2 years ago. And then there's realtor fees, and of course we won't get what we're asking for it. We've had lots of interest and we've been on the top of people's lists about 3 times, but always come in second place. We're going to be paying it back for a while even after it's sold. I'm trying to think of it as more student loans. We've learned something over the last few years, right? 

I still have to finish my class. YIKES! I am on lesson 10 out of 15, plus the final. 

Then there's packing. I'm trying to do one box a day. I started yesterday. I packed all of the kids' books--they got to pick out 10 each  to keep out. Today I packed our China dishes--which we've never used in the 8 years we've been married. Do you think I should just get rid of them? Tomorrow I'm packing up all of the extra sheets and blankets. Really, I'm waiting for Joe to get back to help with the majority of the packing.

Then there's moving (hopefully around the middle of August) and finding somewhere to live in Dallas. Hopefully we can find a home to rent before we get out there. 

And then we hope like crazy that Joe finds clients.

Can we do it? I keep asking myself, but I know the answer is yes. There is no other option.